


Draco Has Two Daddies

by littlepistols



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-09
Updated: 2011-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlepistols/pseuds/littlepistols
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, in which Sirius and Remus raise Draco, fumble through parenting and attempt to host Christmas dinner for friends and family – and survive the festivities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Draco Has Two Daddies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://rs-small-gifts.livejournal.com/profile)[**rs_small_gifts**](http://rs-small-gifts.livejournal.com/) 2011, based on so_jayded's wildcard prompt "post-first-war AU where Sirius and Remus raise Draco" (originally posted [here](http://rs-small-gifts.livejournal.com/138427.html)). Betaed by [](http://brighty18.livejournal.com/profile)[**brighty18**](http://brighty18.livejournal.com/), who wrote a fic that is set in the same AU world (and can be found [here!](http://rs-small-gifts.livejournal.com/138526.html)).

Sirius trudged up the stony path that led to the Weasley house, boots slipping on the ice below the knee-high drifts of snow. He grumbled to himself as he neared, noting Molly watching him from the window with a stormy look on her normally genial face. Stumbling, he deliberately slowed, the annoyance that came with being owled at the Ministry just as he was sitting down to an Aurors meeting, and the trepidation that the terse note had set off, becoming tenfold. It wasn't that he was afraid of Molly (though if he were honest, then yes, he was a little afraid of her), but rather he dreaded being told what a terrible parent he was. This was something he knew rather well, thank you very much. He didn't need his child's sitter, and he and Remus' friend (though truth be told, she was more Remus' friend than his) scolding him for his failings with his child Draco.

 

Child. _His child._ Lately he'd come to think of Draco as his own child. It was a recent development, one four years in the making, so new it sent a warm feeling through him and an ache in his chest simultaneously at the thought.

Draco, his cousin Narcissa's only child (with Lucius Malfoy, and Merlin, Sirius would do anything to forget that!), had come into his care quite suddenly after the end of the War. Voldemort's downfall had lead to known Death Eaters being rounded up, tried and sentenced to Azkaban. Narcissa had been lucky enough to escape the infamous prison only through death. Unfortunately for him (Sirius had seen the horrors of the prison on his last visit there on Ministry business, death was preferable to life in Azkaban), Lucius had not. The boy, for all intents and purposes, meanwhile, had become an orphan, and being the child of a notorious pair of Death Eaters and two of Lord Voldemort's most loyal followers, no one had wanted him.

So, of course, when Remus heard the news, he'd done his best to convince Sirius that, as a blood relative (and a respected Auror), taking the boy in would be relatively easy, and more than that, it would be the right thing to do.

But Sirius had to have been convinced at first. The thought of raising Narcissa's child – a Malfoy – left him cold.

Like he'd hated the rest of his pompous, prejudiced pureblood family, he'd despised Narcissa all his life. She represented everything he loathed about his own kin and he couldn't fathom her child being any different. From what little he'd seen of the baby boy (once on the streets of Diagon Alley as Narcissa sneered and passed him on the sidewalk pushing an emerald green silk-swaddled pram), he was the spitting image of both his parents – pale and blonde. Sirius was man enough to admit to himself that having to look at the boy and see this parents in him might be too much for him to take. It was only when Remus reminded him that _he_ was a Black in name only, that he'd never held to his parents beliefs and that he had, in fact, been able to break free from their influence and make up his own mind about things, that Sirius had relented. The fact that his dear old mum vocally opposed his adopting the boy (from her deathbed, no less, because Walburga Black was nothing if not insistent) for fear that he would "taint the boy by association with Muggles, half-breeds and degenerates" (and Sirius couldn't help but be impressed that even near death, his mother had had the energy to send him a Howler _and_ manage to insult his friends, his lover and his lifestyle all in one breath) made adopting Draco that much more enticing.

Unsurprisingly, Draco had been a challenge from the day he came into their lives. Well, he was challenge for Sirius, anyway. Remus, for the most part, took everything the little boy threw their way in stride, the git. He'd been in the care of his new guardians – Sirius, officially, and Remus, despite being honoured by the Ministry for his part in defeating Voldemort and his army, unofficially, because werewolves were still considered dark creatures and were barred from legally adopting – all of five minutes before he was bawling at the top of his lungs. The bawling went on for days, and by the end of the first week, Sirius had been ready to hop the train to Hogwarts and feed himself to the Giant Squid. He clearly recalled begging Remus, at one point, to "make it stop!" though whenever Remus brought it up now, he denied every saying such a thing.

Draco took to Remus easily enough, calling for "Moony" in only a few short days, while he took longer to warm up to Sirius (and if Sirius were honest, the feeling was mutual.) The boy had to be coaxed into saying his name. Draco ended up calling him "Pafoo", which James and Lily both found much too humourous for his liking. Worse yet, Lily decided that "Pafoo" sounded too much like "Poo" and dubbed Draco "Christopher Robin" while James – who had little idea what or who a "Poo" was but nevertheless enjoyed the name on an altogether different and only slightly less immature level than his wife – encouraged the tot to persist with the dreadful new nickname, while Lily tried to teach the boy to address Sirius as "silly old bear.”

Draco, for his part, loved the attentions lavished on him by his new family and their circle of friends, and had, in fact, grown quite attached to Lily in a very short time. He seemed to be less than receptive to James (who took a while to warm up to the boy, his prejudices about the Malfoys almost as firmly entrenched as Sirius'). As for Harry, Draco would either ignore the boy completely or focus on him completely, usually by throwing a block at his head when the adults weren't looking. Harry, for his part, was quite happy to throw them back, though he always seemed to get caught red-handed and scolded by his mother who would then turn around and scold Sirius, claiming that Sirius had never learned to share and was teaching Draco his own bad habits.

James and Lily, of course, thought that Draco was so much like the child Sirius would have sired (had he fancied the ladies and not a certain former Prefect), but beyond the occasional moments of recognition when Draco would refuse to eat his vegetables and instead magic them across the room on sheer stubborn will to splat against the wall like a colourful version of those Muggle inkblots that fascinated Sirius so, he didn't see it. Not at first, anyway.

Though the three of them had quickly become a family, it was only these four years later that Sirius finally felt like he belonged among his little pack; a partner to the man he'd been in love with for years and a parent to the boy he'd loved for only a short time but loved with all his heart nonetheless. Being determined to prove to Remus that he was committed to his family and that he could be a responsible ( _better_ ) parent, he'd convinced his partner that they should host the annual Christmas dinner with the Potters and the Tonks' at their home this year. He'd been thrilled when Remus had so readily agreed, as Christmas was Sirius' favourite holiday by far, but every step closer to the Weasley's front door Sirius got, the more he realised that maybe trying to be a better _anything_ was a wholly fruitless endeavour.

Wondering what misdeed Draco managed to commit this time, Sirius knocked and mentally prepared himself for the lecture to come.

Molly opened the door and gave him a very unimpressed look. "You going to stand out there all night or are you going to come in?" she chided before turning away and leaving him to do just that. He stumbled over the pile of small shoes at the door, left his boots dripping on the welcome mat and followed her through the sitting room, where the children were all currently too engrossed in a game of Exploding Snap to pay him any mind. He slipped into the kitchen mostly unnoticed, save for a glance and princely nod from the blond five year-old as he passed.

It turned out that earlier that day, Draco had decided to share what Sirius and Moony got up to when they thought he was asleep. Molly, ever the watchful mother and conscientious babysitter, had overheard just enough to get the gist and had immediately put a stop to the conversation. Just as he had expected, Molly chewed him out, telling him that he and Remus really ought to learn that children were unpredictable (as if he needed to be told that!), that they should be more conscientious and, for Merlin's sake, lock their bedroom door. (Truthfully, Sirius didn't think he should admit that the bedroom rarely ever played a part in their amorous endeavours). Luckily for him, Remus arrived moments later, and was rewarded with a sound tongue-lashing of his own. His partner, (while blushing profusely), promptly took Draco home. Sirius, meanwhile, was left to deliver little Harry back to Godric's Hollow.

He wasn't sure who had gotten the worse deal, he or Remus.

"Hi, Uncle Sirius!" Harry had greeted him happily. The boy seemed undisturbed by the earlier conversation and by the time they were standing at the door of the Potters' house, he was almost sure he was safe.

He knew Lily had heard the moment she opened the door trying to look stern while unsuccessfully biting back a smile.

"Hi, mum!"

"Hello, darling." She stooped down and gave her son a kiss. "Why don't you go on inside and wash your hands before dinner." She helped Harry off with his coat and boots. "And say goodbye to Uncle Sirius."

Sirius could sense James hovering somewhere nearby. He did his best to ignore the presence of his best mate, who was no doubt listening in to get the right sort of ammunition to regale Peter and all their other friends with later. He loved James, but sometimes he was a right prat.

"Uncle Sirius?" Harry asked, looking unsure.

"Yeah, mate?"

"Is it true that you have to check Uncle Moony's bellybutton with your tongue for fleas?"

He heard James splutter from the kitchen. Sirius hoped he had choked on his tongue.

"What? Is that what Draco said?"

"He said he sometimes sees you on your knees – "

"O-kay" Sirius interrupted, throwing Lily a pleading look. Lily resolutely ignored him, standing with arms folded by her son's side.

"Fred says it's pro'lly 'cause he's a werewolf, George says it's 'cause Padfoot pro'lly gave him fleas, but Tonks says it's 'cause you love him."

"Remus doesn't have fleas, Harry," Sirius answered quickly.

Lily, for her part, looked very embarrassed, the shade of her cheeks almost matching the shade of her hair, but she stayed stubbornly quiet. Sirius really hated her sometimes.

"Ginny says the neighbour's cat licks her babies and Ron said it's to check for fleas."

"Do they?"

"Uh, huh, and Draco say uncle Remus looks like he's in lots of pain and makes these weird noises like he's trying not to scream, and Draco thought he might be hurting 'cause of all the fleas."

Sirius had never really felt truly mortified before. It was a curious, wholly unpleasant feeling.

"That… it's, it's what two adults do when they love each other," he said, struggling to find the right words. He thought he might have gotten it somewhat right since Lily had yet to interrupt. "It's also something Draco shouldn't have seen," he added hastily. _Or shared with anyone_ he thought, wincing.

"So… no fleas?" James piped up from the kitchen and Lily bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"No," Sirius answered pointedly.

"And you don't have them?" Harry asked next.

"No."

"Because Draco said sometimes uncle Remus sticks his – "

"Whoa, hey, there!" James burst through the kitchen door and scooped Harry up into his arms. "Hey, there, squirt," he said, avoiding his wife's snickers, "why don't you and I go on and wash up. Mummy made your favourite cookies for dessert."

"Cookies!"

With questions forgotten and a hasty good-bye, Harry and James were gone, leaving him alone with Lily.

"Oh, Sirius – "

"Don't say it," he warned though he wasn't sure what she was going to say. He just knew he didn't want to hear it.

She lifted her hands, placating. "I was just going to suggest – "

"Getting a lock?"

"Well, yes, but probably making sure Draco's asleep before you and Remus get, erm, _romantic_ , would be a better idea." She patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. "And possibly a well-placed Muffliato," she added, a sly smirk back on her face. Sirius felt so drained, he couldn't make the effort to be annoyed.

"He's a scamp."

"He's a curious little boy."

"He's a sneaky little… thing."

"You love him."

"Good-bye Lily."

"Give my best to Remus!" she called after him.

Sirius only just resisted the urge to turn and waggle his brows at Lily, tempting as it was. He figured the situation warranted a little restraint.

***

Remus had sensed Sirius hovering just outside Draco's bedroom door while he read to the boy from a book on sexuality he'd been hoping he wouldn't have to break out quite so soon.

He'd also known that Sirius, coward that he was, would avoid this part if he could. It had taken Sirius an awfully long time to get home, missing dinner altogether, so it was no surprise to Remus that his lover avoided being seen or heard. No, he'd left it to Remus to explain to a five-year old that what two grown men did when the lights are out and the children are, presumably, safely tucked away, was perfectly natural but something that shouldn't be discussed with others. Instead, Draco should never be afraid to ask them anything. Remus made a gentle point to add that Draco shouldn't be eavesdropping either, something the boy emphatically denied. Turned out, Draco was earning his stripes (green, Sirius would say with disdain, while Remus thought red and gold were more the boy's colours) and living up to being Sirius Black's charge.

It didn't take Remus long to locate his partner after tucking Draco in (and watching for a while to make sure the boy fell asleep). Sirius was predictable when it came to avoidance, so Remus was unsurprised to hear water sloshing in the bathroom. He was momentarily torn between letting Sirius stew in his own bathwater wondering just how annoyed Remus would be at his little disappearing act, or putting him out of his (Remus held a futile hope) misery.

"So, good night?" he asked, lowering the toilet lid and taking a seat.

"You talked to Lily."

He shook his head. "Just figured you'd be treated to a mini inquisition, too," he answered, noting the tips of Sirius' fingers were already beginning to prune. "Did you take the scenic route home?"

Sirius, looking chagrined, closed his eyes and tipped his head back in the water, the tips of his dark hair fanning out on the surface. Despite his lack of response, Remus loved Sirius like this, quiet and toned down (and with his tail tucked between his legs), though he loved the version of Sirius that was haughty and proud (and loud) and could make him feel like he was flying high (and flying apart) just a little more.

"Well, she's a wretched person."

"She did marry James."

Sirius cocked his head and opened one eye to look at him. "Precisely."

I take it James was there, then."

"Git stood out of sight, listening in," Sirius grumbled, reaching for the washcloth and holding it out to Remus.

Remus took it without complaint. Like Draco, Sirius enjoyed a good back scrub. For a man who spent a good portion of his time as a dog, he was, at times, more like a pampered feline.

"He'll probably tell Peter all about it, and it will get around at the Ministry and, no doubt, Ted will hear it and tell Andromeda and won't Christmas be wonderful this year!"

Sirius' voice had risen with every word, and Remus had to smack him on the side of the head with the washcloth before resuming the washing of Sirius' back. "Volume, Padfoot," he chided, taken aback by Sirius' reaction. It usually wasn't like Sirius to care what people thought of them. Remus was tempted to ask him about it, but thought better of it. "We don't want Draco waking up and sneaking a look," he added instead. "Merlin knows what he'd tell people next."

"That you were giving me a good scrubbing," Sirius snickered and waggled his brows.

_Well, that's more like it_ , he thought and refrained from rolling his eyes. The gesture would be lost on Sirius, who'd turned back around, anyway.

"He had a lot of questions, Padfoot."

"And did you answer them all to the best of your ability, my love?"

That earned Sirius another smack.

"If I thought you'd stick to age-appropriate language, I'd have made you do it instead."

"Well, it's a good thing I have a filthy mouth then."

"Filthy mouthy, filthy mind,…" he said, as if he was reading off a checklist. It got a small snort from Sirius. Remus took that as a good sign. "You seemed to keep it in check with Harry," he added gently, and felt Sirius tense up minutely under his ministrations.

Sirius didn't answer, and though Remus knew him well, he found himself wishing for a glimpse into his lover's mind.

"Lily was there in case I bollixed it up," Sirius answered eventually. Breaking the relative quiet of the small, damp room. He shrugged, prompting water to spill over the lip of the tub and puddle by Remus' socked feet.

"And besides, not my kid," he went on in a too-casual tone that didn't fool Remus for a moment, "wouldn't have to deal with any emotional turmoil I caused if I did."

"Unlike with Draco."

"Well, he's a peeping Tom, Moony, that's bad enough," he retorted, feigning a dramatic shiver.

"He's just curious. And he's a scamp."

"Fuck," Sirius swore, suddenly getting to his feet, "you _have_ been talking to Lily."

Remus handed him a towel, feeling no remorse for his lie by omission. "You lost me five galleons," he answered instead.

"How's that?" Sirius asked, towelling himself off quickly and rather roughly, so that while Remus only glimpsed patches of soft, tan skin, he got to watch his muscles rippling underneath as he moved.

"She bet me you wouldn't show up until late, because, as she put it, you have _'performance anxiety'_ ".

"What?!"

Remus shrugged. "Ask her."

It was a testament to how much Sirius had changed since the war (since Draco) that he only scowled and left the bathroom in a sombre mood, opening the door with quiet ease despite his annoyance and even restraining from stomping to the bedroom like he had done when angered ever since Remus had known him. It said more to Remus than Sirius would ever admit out loud, but Remus heard it clearly anyway.

From the moment they'd taken Draco in, Sirius had taken the stance that he would be a terrible parent, and he set about trying to prove it (or rather, doing nothing in particular to disprove it) at every turn. There was the time, not long after Draco arrived, that Sirius dropped the boy on his head (quite accidentally, but still, Remus would have thought Sirius would realise that squirming, crying toddlers were prone to be more slippery when naked and covered in soapy water), and then refused to hold the boy for a week (and then insisted Remus stay in the room whenever he did for weeks afterwards). And there were occasional remarks about the little boy's parentage (though they were always muttered under Sirius' breath and out of Draco's earshot, and only when the boy did something particularly naughty – and Draco could be _very_ naughty; a second-generation Marauder through and through), and the time that Sirius, frustrated by the constant bawling of their new charge called the baby "a savage little beast" and Remus felt the need to remind his lover that name-calling wouldn't be tolerated in their home by withholding sex for a week (and it had pained Remus, too, though it had reminded him of how good making up could be).

The terrible twos, they had also learned, weren't a myth. Though if Draco were anything to go by, they should have been named the _terrifying twos_ , because that's just what little Draco was – terrifying! Remus had never seen tantrums that wild and dramatic (though he suspected that Sirius had probably thrown a few like that himself, if past behaviour was anything to go by). It was probably some sort of reciprocity by the gods that saw Sirius frequently on the wrong end of one of Draco's outbursts, and even though Sirius had always come out of them with a bruised ego, Remus felt sure that things between Draco and Sirius would turn around. And they did. It just took longer than expected and by that time, Sirius had seemed to resign himself to being a fuck up for a parent. Remus hated that the man he loved thought so little of his own ability to love and be loved.

The terrible twos seemed to calm sometime around three and a half and Remus silently sent out a prayer of thanks to the gods, then quickly rescinded when he realised that Draco hadn't really changed, he'd merely learned how to go about a different way getting what he wanted. It involved two basic things: pouting and subterfuge. The pout was a thing of beauty, and both Sirius and Remus were impressed with the way it made women swoon and coddle and grown men hand over sweets. (It was a gift Sirius himself had been born with, and had frequently employed, though he claimed it had never worked on his nasty aunts, or his mother). Even he and Remus weren't immune. The subterfuge, on the other hand, left him simultaneously awed and dismayed. It also reminded Remus of Sirius, though he wasn't foolish enough to voice that particular thought. But the truth was, Draco was so much Sirius' son, no matter that they weren't directly related. In moments when Draco sat between them as they read to him on the couch, or sat in front of the telly to watch an old black and white, asking questions and pointing things out, and eventually falling asleep curled over both of their laps, Remus liked to think that Draco reflected some of him as well. It made him feel like they truly were a family.

As Remus climbed into bed later that night and allowed Sirius to curl around him in canine repose, he wondered how well his family would survive the ultimate test of their bond – Christmas Day.

***

Since his first year at Hogwarts, Sirius had grown to love Christmas. Before that time, Christmas had meant tolerating his heinous relations while putting on a show of being disinterestedly delighted and hoping for a gift that didn't bear the family crest or the words _Toujours Pur_ anywhere on them. Experiencing Christmas with normal people, wizards and Muggles alike, had opened Sirius' eyes to the joys of the holidays. It didn't hurt that his mates, unlike his family, were brilliant at getting him just what he wanted and were always willing to share the homemade treats their mothers would load them down with after the holidays were over. Those sweets did a lot to soothe the ache of yet another Christmas spent amongst the Blacks.

Had it not been for the ceaseless ribbing he'd received at every turn the past few days, Sirius would have been in a far better mood waking up on Christmas morning. As it was, the sound of little Draco yelling for he and Remus and the excited squeals of delight the boy emitted with every strip of gift wrapping he tore away, was dampened by the thought of yet another afternoon of double-entendres, tactless teasing and laughter at his and Remus' expense. James had been insufferable at work, telling anyone who'd listen (and a few who rather wouldn't) all about Draco's little faux-pas, and Sirius held no hope that his insufferability would cease anytime soon. And then there was Andromeda, who he had yet to see and would, no doubt, delight in Sirius' pain as much as his gormless friends. She was the only one of his relatives he actually liked, but (like him) her mean streak was still firmly in place, and despite her being married to an easygoing Muggle, she could still wield that streak like a Black.

"Don't worry," Remus told him as he got up to answer the door for their first guests, "I'm sure that James has got it out of his system." Remus sounded less than convinced of this himself, but he put on a bright smile for Draco, huffed out a long breath and opened the door.

 

 

"Can you believe it?!" James crowed, and their guests burst into raucous laughter once more.

"Oh, I can," Andromeda answered, through fits of giggles, "I remember one Christmas Eve at Grimmauld Place, Sirius must have been about Draco and Harry's age, streaking around, right through all the guests, completely starkers, while Kreacher chased him with a dressing gown."

Sirius, beyond humiliated and increasingly annoyed, resisted the urge to drop his face down in Moony's delicious mash potatoes (and only come up for air when their guests were gone. Or possibly get up from the table and mash every one of their faces into the creamy tuber concoction).

Dinner had begun badly enough, with James chomping at the bit to share the tale of Remus and Sirius' erotic adventures (as he had dubbed them, much to Sirius' dismay). The night had devolved from there, with any story involving the humiliation of Remus and/or Sirius in any way, shape or form, being told amongst their small group of guests. For the most part, Andromeda and Lily kept the discussion away from small ears, and while Remus finished preparing the meal (as Sirius was a disaster in the kitchen, which, incidentally, was another story that James had shared with his cousin and her husband), Sirius was forced to bear the humiliation alone. He was just glad that Peter, newly engaged to his secretary, was too busy dealing with his future in-laws to add his two cents to this mess.

"Mummy, what's streaking?" Nymphadora, who was sitting at the end of the table with the boys, asked.

Andromeda looked nonplussed, as if she'd forgotten the children were there, and had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Its what your batty aunt Ellie does once a month at the home," answered Ted.

Andromeda threw him a filthy look.

Thankfully, little Dora looked satisfied with that answer and went back to watching Harry and Draco play with their food.

"I knew you started that particular habit young, mate," James chortled between a mouthful of turkey, while Lily quietly scolded him to chew before he spoke.

Remus, for his part, was quiet (too-quiet), laughing good-naturedly at the various jokes and tales (including the ones about him and _his_ past bouts with unintentional public nudity), the smile on his face looking more strained as the hours went by.

Earlier that day, Remus had convinced Sirius to "turn the other cheek" (right before giving him a blowjob in the bathroom with the door locked and Draco occupied with his newest toys on the sitting room floor). While Sirius was faintly confused by the turn of phrase, he got the gist. Though it had never been his style to back down or roll over (unless, of course, there was sex involved) he was determined to prove to Remus that he could be an ideal parent (and ideal partner). So he'd endured the last two and a half hours, but he was uncertain he could take much more.

As it turned out, Remus was the one who cracked first.

Even before they'd finished their meal, Remus pulled out his wand and vanished the plates to the kitchen. That action abruptly stopped the chatter, and the boys, who'd been having a secret battle of the wills with their brussel sprouts, both looked up from the table with smiles of delight.

"How about dessert?" Remus asked in a clipped tone, then waved his wand again and Accio'd heaping plates of pudding and mince pies to the middle of the table.

The fact that Remus was using magic to instead of taking his time to carry out the platters by hand, said a lot for his lover's mood. That the platters landed smoothly on the table though with a loud thud that made everyone around the table flinch and the children giggle, told Sirius that he may have to intervene if things got ugly (and considering his own sour mood, he wasn't sure he would).

"Dora," Remus said, grabbing a plate and stacking it with pies, "why don't you take the boys out to the sitting room and have your dessert there. You can throw a blanket down and pretend you're at a picnic." He smiled and the children, still more delighted, quickly agreed.

"Can we play with Draco's new toys?" Harry asked, and Draco looked askance.

"After dessert," Lily answered, "I'm sure if you ask Draco, he'll let you play with him. Isn't that right, Draco?"

Draco looked from Lily to Remus and then to Sirius before nodding reluctantly.

"Come on, twerps," Nymphadora called, grabbing the sweets-laden plate, "let's go have a picnic."

Once the children were safely out of earshot, Remus turned to their guests.

"As delightful as this whole night has been," he began, his tone belying any hint of delight, "I think it's time for all of you to take a break from tonight's entertainment, cram some pudding into your mouths, and shut the fuck up for five minutes!"

"Moony – "

"What, James? What amusing tale do you have to share with the table now, eh? I can't fathom there are many more stories about Sirius and I to tell. Of course, there's the time _you_ were caught with Julie Meadows and your pants down in Sixth year by a bunch of firsties." James could only gape. "She was your dorm mate, wasn't she Lily?" Before Lily, who looked a bit stunned herself, could answer, Remus ploughed on. "Thankfully I was on Prefect duties and managed to calm them down and convince them not tell, not even when you flashed them all your bits trying to struggle back into your clothes."

Sirius sat as stunned as the rest of the table. This was a side of Remus he rarely saw, a side, if he were honest, that was doing all sorts of things to his libido.

"And Andromeda, I believe Sirius has many a story to tell about what _you_ got up to with those French cousins of yours, or the time Ted had to throw himself out of your bedroom window with only his tartan pants on so your parents wouldn't catch him."

Andromeda looked properly chastised, while Ted suddenly matched the holly print tablecloth, splotches of red covering his face. No one dared say a word as Remus, jaw clenched, stared them all down, then abruptly stood up and excused himself.

"Now look what you've done!" Sirius barked, jumping up from his seat, "I hope you're all happy with yourselves."

"Oh, Sirius – "

"We didn't mean – "

"We're so sorry – "

"I can't believe you told them about my pants!" came the simultaneous replies.

Sirius, his own humiliation forgotten, waved a hand at his cousin, her husband, his best mate and his wife, silencing them. "I suggest you do as Remus says and enjoy dessert." _Might well be your last meal_ , he thought, his anger only slightly dampened by the true repent etched on their faces. With that, he left his guests to look for Moony.

Sirius didn't have to look far. He found Remus leaning against the wall watching the children from a quiet corner of the room as they argued and stuffed pie into their small, sticky mouths. He came up behind his lover, snaking an arm around his middle and hooking his chin over Remus' shoulder.

"Alright love?" Sirius whispered.

"Mmm," was Remus' only reply.

Calmer now, he turned to look at Sirius briefly before turning back to the scene before them.

"Will you two quit it," Nymphadora told the boys as she finished off the last of the mince pies. Her hair was a dazzling rainbow of colour, a change from the green she'd been sporting at dinner, matching the brilliant fairy lights on the Christmas tree.

"I'll quit it when he does!" Draco exclaimed, his pale face flush and blue eyes shining dangerously.

"But it's true!" Harry yelled, bits of pie flying from his mouth as he spoke.

"No, it's not!" Draco said imperiously, lifting his chin and looking defiantly back at James' son.

"Peoples _can_ get fleas, my daddy told me."

"Well, _my_ daddy told me they can't, and he's the smartest man alive, _ever_ , so there!"

Sirius felt Remus take in a sharp breath. Draco had never referred him as "daddy" or "father", had only ever called Remus "his Moony". He'd never referred to Sirius that way either, and while his heart swelled for Remus, it ached a little (rather selfishly, he knew) for himself.

"Which daddy?"

"Moony, you dolt."

"I'm not a dolt!" Harry retorted, then turned to Dora and asked, "what's a dolt?"

"Means you're a dummy."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Take it back!"

"Why should I?"

"Because…" Harry cast around wildly for a reason, "my daddy's better at everything else!"

Draco huffed out a haughty little laugh. "My daddies are better than yours. And my _other_ daddy can do anything! He can fly broomsticks better – "

"Nuh, uh!"

" – And he even has a flying motorbike. He takes all our family riding on it _all the time_."

Whatever was said next, Sirius didn't hear over the sound of his own stuttering heart, the rushing swelling of emotion getting the better of him. Draco had called him "daddy", had boasted about _him_.

Sirius found himself plastered against the wall a moment later, Remus kissing him sweetly, before pulling away, Cheshire cat smile on his face. Sirius, feeling overwhelmed, could only beam back at his lover, before pulling him in for another kiss, this one hungrier, more intent behind it. He knew that Remus would understand without him ever having to say anything more.

It was Remus who managed to pull away once more.

"Is this really the best time for this, Padfoot?" he asked, voice low and full of mirth.

"Well I don't think that we have to worry about our illustrious guests," he said, placing kisses to the corners of Remus' mouth, "and the children seem quite happy right where they are – "

His words were cut off by little Draco's voice, loud and annoyed, exclaiming, "I don't care what you say, Potty, people _can't get fleas!_ "

"Or maybe not."

Remus sighed and dropped his head to Sirius' shoulder. "I suppose one of us will have to break those two up."

Sirius snuck a look around the corner. Dora was sitting between the boys, rolling her eyes as she pushed each one away from the other. "Well, it doesn't look like it's come to that yet," he lied.

"Really? Or is that you want to see if our boy can hold his own?" Remus knew him far too well.

"Fine," he said, relenting. He thought it probably best that the boys were separated before one of them let loose some accidental magic anyway. "Shall we flip a galleon for it, _Daddy_?"

Remus groaned. "Oh, no!" he retorted, "you are not allowed to call me that."

"Only Draco."

"Only our son."

Sirius took a moment, feigning consideration. "I can live with that," he answered, those two little words warming his heart. _Our son_.

The suspicious look Remus gave him told him that his partner knew it wasn't the last time he'd hear that word from Sirius' lips. Little did he know that Sirius planned to use it whenever he could get away with it from now on.

"But first," he added, before leaning in and pushing his lips to Remus' once more.

Sirius decided that after the night they'd had so far, they could indulge themselves in a little snogging, guests be damned. And if someone happened to come along and find them crowded up against the wall, then that was fine, too, because he loved Remus and that's what people in love did.

"It's natural!" they heard Draco yell from the sitting room.

It seemed their son, Draco, had been paying attention.  



End file.
